Chapter 6
Chapter Six
AIDAN
She’s far too cute and mature to be as inexperienced as she seems. It makes me wonder if it’s actually inexperience, or just shitty sexual partners, that have left her feeling like I wouldn’t want this—wouldn’t want her—as much as I obviously do.
The way her eyes widen when I tell her I’m going to make her work for the next one is a total turn-on, if I’m being honest. I definitely wasn’t getting innocent girl vibes from her at the bar, but here in bed she’s like a different person, less confident, but more willing to be bossed around.
I’m not sure which version I like better.
“The next one?” Her voice is timid and she shakes her head slightly. “I can’t really do that . . . twice in a row.”
I press a kiss to the bridge of her nose, “We should probably test that theory just to make sure.”
“No really, I don’t want you to feel bad if I can’t come again. I never can.” She looks up at me with those big blue doe eyes, concern written all over her face.
“No pressure at all. I won’t feel bad if you don’t. And if you do, it’ll be a bonus.”
Her lips turn up slightly at the corners and I’m relieved to have taken away the pressure she might otherwise feel to “perform.” However, I’m determined to be the one to show her that she can have multiple orgasms. Since I’ll never see her again, I want to be remembered as the first guy who ever made her come twice in a row.
“Okay,” she says, and then shocks me by reaching between us and gripping my shaft, sliding her tight fist along me and circling the head of my cock with her hand.
“Fuuuuuck,” I grit out the word, unprepared for how amazing this feels. It’s been way too long since I’ve been with anyone. It’s just been me and my hand for the last year—not for lack of opportunity—but if there’s one thing my stepdad taught me, it’s that you don’t shit where you eat.
Ember Cove is far too small of a town to sleep around casually.
It’s a lesson that was hammered into me my first summer in the NHL when I came home for a visit, had sex with a girl I went to high school with, and then ran into her the next morning at the coffee shop and the grocery store the following day.
I quickly realized I didn’t need that level of awkwardness in my life, and I never made that mistake again.
“Hey.” The word is tinged with concern, and as my eyes snap back to the gorgeous girl beneath me, I realize her eyebrows are dipped in confusion. “You okay?”
“Never been better,” I say, leaning down to kiss her. But she stops me by moving her free hand to my chest and holding me in place as her eyes scan my face.
“You sure? Because you just looked like you were either completely lost in thought or having an out-of-body experience. And I’ve barely touched you so I don’t think it was the latter.”
“Sorry,” I chuckle and give her the smile that most women can’t resist. Somehow, I don’t think it quite works on her. “Got lost in my head thinking about how good that felt.”
“You sure you weren’t lost in your head picturing someone else?”
Ouch. The fact that that’s the first place her mind goes says all it needs to say about her past experiences.
I roll to the side so I’m laying next to her, and pull her with me onto her side so we’re face-to-face. I brush my fingers into the tendrils of her hair and push them back off her face, then rest my palm against her cheek.
“I absolutely was not picturing someone else. It’s . . . just been a while since I’ve done this.”
“Had a one-night stand with a stranger in a hotel room?” Her voice is teasing, as is the way she drags her finger up my chest before curling her hand around the side of my neck.
“Had sex.” I don’t know why I’m even telling her this, except that I don’t want her to feel like she’s not good enough and I was picturing someone else instead. “So, your touch? It almost undid me.”
“Oh yeah?” That teasing tone she uses makes me want to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to find her voice, much less mock me with it. “And what do you look like when you come undone?”
I know my smile is wicked when I say, “I think we should find out.”
This time, when my lips meet hers, it’s not soft and sweet like after I’d undressed her.
No, we’re like two people desperate for each other.
The drag of her hand along my cock, the taste of her cum still on my tongue as I kiss her, the way her ample tits drag along my chest as she moves to give herself room to stroke me . . . all of it has my body on fire.
Reaching down, I pull her top leg over my hip and find her cunt, still soaked from her orgasm. When my fingers dip inside her, there’s no hesitation on her part. She moans into my mouth and presses her hips to meet each thrust, over and over until she’s begging me for more.
“Let me grab a condom,” I say, rolling away from her. I rip the foil packet and roll it on quickly before I’m back, guiding her onto her back and spreading her legs as I line myself up with her entrance.
I want to be face-to-face for this. I want to see her eyes when I slide into her, watch the way her tits move with each thrust, see her face when she has that second orgasm she doesn’t think she can have.
She’s tighter than I’m expecting, and the way her lips part in a small gasp as I enter her makes me cautious. I move slowly, letting her adjust.
“I’m not going to break,” she says, but I can’t tell if she’s assuring herself, or me.
Pressing my hips forward slowly, I slide in deeper. “I sure as hell hope not.”
But somehow, the thing that runs through my mind is: I’m more worried about you breaking me.
I have no idea where the thought comes from or what it even means. This is one night, that’s it. For some reason, though, I wish it could be more. Which is ridiculous, because I don’t do more.
Not even when the flirting is as fun as it was at the bar. Not even with the almost reverent way we’re handling each other’s bodies. Not even when the sound of her moan, as she wraps her legs behind my back and pulls me deeper, has my dick throbbing for her.
Caring about people is just giving them a chance to leave you.
So tonight will have to be enough, even though that word—more—is on repeat in my brain. It’s probably just because I liked the way it sounded when she was begging me for more. So that’s what I’ll give her . . . more of my body.
It’s all I’m capable of giving her. There’s no way I’m ever doing a relationship again after the last one reinforced what I already knew: the people I love always leave. But if I were going to be into someone, it would be someone like her.
She traces the muscles along my spine lightly with her fingertips and then wraps her hands up over my shoulders, pulling me down to her as she tilts her chin up so we’re face-to-face.
“Give me a sec,” she says, her voice breathy and her eyes wide. Up close like this, with her hair spread beneath her, she looks so goddamn innocent. Smooth, round cheeks with the freckles I can’t see in the dark. Wide eyes and full lips.
I press my lips to her forehead. “You doing okay?”
“Just . . . so full.”
“We’re almost there,” I assure her, running my thumb along her jaw.
Her laugh sounds more like a cough she’s choked on.
I brush my lips across her forehead again, whispering, “Relax. We’re so close, just a little more.”
I don’t know if she’s this tight because it’s just how her body was made, or if it’s because she’s tense or nervous. Either way it feels amazing for me, but I want it to feel good for her, too.
I might be a selfish prick in real life, but I’m incredibly selfless in the bedroom. It takes absolutely no work for me to get off, but where would the pleasure in that be, if my partner didn’t also enjoy it? Might as well just come in my fucking hand if my partner isn’t also having a great time.
I raise up slightly on one elbow and let my eyes adjust to the difference.
I hate not being able to see every inch of her.
I wish we had more light, so I could watch the way she responds to my touch, to my movement, as I trail my other hand down her neck, along the ridge of her shoulder, and down the side of her breast.
She sighs as my hand cups her breast, and I lick my lips at the way she spills over my palm and fingers.
When I run my thumb over her nipple, she takes a ragged breath and tilts her hips up, taking more of me.
It’s unbelievably difficult to take it this slow after not having sex for a year, but it’s probably the best choice right now, otherwise I’d likely embarrass myself.
Because there is absolutely nothing about my own hand that is a suitable substitute for this, right here, with her.
“Yes.” She hisses out the word as the pad of my thumb scrapes against her nipple again, and she thrusts her hips up again until I’m fully inside her.
I pause momentarily, making sure she’s comfortable. She bites her lower lip as she looks up at me, and raises an eyebrow like she’s asking why I stopped. I lean down, brushing my lips across the bridge of her nose. “You good?”
“I’m good. You?”
“Literally never been better.”
Her laugh has her breast bouncing against my palm, and my thumb dragging across her nipple again.
The laugh turns to a moan, her eyes half-closed as she licks her lips.
And when I slide out slowly before pushing back in, her jaw drops open with a breathy sigh, and she opens her eyes again, locking her gaze on me.
The naked lust staring back at me ratchets up my own need, and when she drops her feet to the mattress beside my thighs so she can lift her hips to meet me thrust for thrust, it’s hard to hold back. But I’m determined to give her that second orgasm.
My fingers gently twist her nipple until she’s moaning again, and then I dip my mouth so my lips brush against her earlobe. “Your little moans are making it hard for me to hold back.”
She runs her arms along the sides of my rib cage and then wraps them around my lower back. “So why hold back, then?”